


The Task Of Asking Out Jinki--hyung

by touchinghearts



Category: SHINee
Genre: Anxiety, Fluff, Humour, M/M, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-29
Updated: 2011-03-29
Packaged: 2017-10-17 09:09:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/touchinghearts/pseuds/touchinghearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who knew asking Jinki out would be so hard? Pre-Lucifer era.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Task Of Asking Out Jinki--hyung

**Author's Note:**

> Minho suffering a severe case of the heeby-jeebies. XD

‘Alright, Choi Minho, you can do this,’ Minho thought, surveying himself in the mirror. ‘Your hair is great, you don’t smell, your breath is fine and you don’t look too bad. All ready.’

Perfect. Time to proceed to the next part of his carefully-constructed plan. Minho turned and paused to take a deep breath. He could do this. It wasn’t even that hard. It would take less than a minute even, if he was fast. No problem.

If only his knees would stop shaking.

Minho closed his eyes, focusing on breathing in and out. He could _do this_. All he needed to do was go up to Jinki-hyung and spit it out. Well, not literally _spit_ it out, of course, more like say it as fast as he possibly could. While still being coherent enough to be understood, that is. That was the best way to go. Definitely. He could do it.

‘That’s right. Just go up to him and say it. Easy.’

Resolutely, he pushed the bathroom door open and stepped out into the hall. The first sounds that met his ears were laughter and the noisy game coming from the living room. It was easy to guess that Jinki and Kibum were still playing that racing game they’d bought last week.

‘Good,’ thought Minho. ‘He’s still there. Just go to him and ask.’

Couldn’t be that hard, right? This wasn’t a movie; no supernatural force and otherwise was going to stop him from asking Jinki out. He could do it. He was Flaming Charisma Minho, Korea’s Prince Charming; of _course_ he could do it. He would just go out there, get up right in front of Jinki and spit it out, figuratively speaking.

That is, if he could make his legs move.

Minho frowned when his feet refused to budge. He wiggled his toes then tried to take a step forward. Nothing. His legs wouldn’t move an inch.

‘The hell?’

No matter how much he shifted and strained, his feet defied him. What on Earth was going on?

“Minho?”

Minho looked over his shoulder to see Jonghyun standing at the entrance to the bedrooms. His eyebrows were raised slightly as he gazed at the rapper. They stared at each other for a minute.

“What are you doing?” Jonghyun finally said.

“Trying to get to the living room,” Minho answered honestly, seeing no reason to lie.

“...Something stopping you?” Jonghyun’s eyebrows rose higher.

“My legs won’t move for some reason.” Minho scowled down at said perpetrators. He strained but once again he failed.

“You’re not kidding me, are you?” said Jonghyun incredulously as he circled around the younger boy to stand in front of him.

Minho shook his head mutely. He tried again to take a step forward but his stubborn legs refused to comply.

“Are your legs hurt or something?” the lead vocal asked.

“No.” Minho wiggled his toes again to prove his point. His legs weren’t numb and he didn’t feel weird. “They’re perfectly fine. They just won’t move.”

“Try walking back then front,” Jonghyun suggested.

Minho did so and, to his surprise, found that he could step back. But when he attempted to go forward, his legs froze again. He exhaled, frustration beginning to rise.

“Well, at least we know they’re not cramped,” said Jonghyun with a grin, trying to cheer him up. It didn’t work.

“What are you doing?” Kibum’s voice said. They looked up to see him coming out into the hall. He stood there, arms crossed and a questioning look on his face.

“His legs won’t move,” Jonghyun explained, fully aware of how ridiculous he sounded in view of the situation.

“Eh? Won’t move?” Kibum stared at Minho, who shrugged.

“He can walk back but not forward,” Jonghyun said. Minho demonstrated to prove his point.

“That’s weird,” said Kibum, frowning. “They’re not cramped or something?”

“If there’s anything wrong with them, I don’t feel it,” said Minho, looking disgruntled.

Just then, Jinki’s voice from the living room floated into their hearing; he was laughing gaily at something he was probably watching. Kibum’s eyes suddenly narrowed as a thought occurred to him.

“Maybe it’s a reflex action,” he said, more to himself than anything, snapping his fingers.

“Reflex action?” Jonghyun repeated in confusion.

“Minho-ah,” said Kibum sweetly. “Were you heading for the living room, by any chance?”

“Yeah...” said Minho slowly, unsure as to why his guard had shot up.

“What for?”

“...I needed to talk to Jinki-hyung,” was all the youngest rapper divulged, feeling it unwise to reveal exactly why. But it seemed the Almighty Key had figured it out on his own judging from the way he was snickering.

Kibum walked past Minho, patting his shoulder in comfort. “Nerves are such a pain, aren’t they?” he said airily, grin positively wicked.

“What’s he talking about?” said Jonghyun, even more confused than before as he watched Kibum disappear into the bedroom.

Minho’s eyes, however, had gone big. Realisation slammed onto him in a sickening tsunami. No. No _way_. Of all the stupid reasons in the universe, it couldn’t be _that_ one.

Jonghyun turned his head in surprise when Minho let out a groan and fell into a squatting position, burying his head into his knees. “Minho?” he said, wondering what was wrong with the rapper. But Minho didn’t hear him, too wrapped up in his own misery.

It was typical, absolutely _typical_ , that the most severe case of cold feet in the history of the Earth had to happen to _him_ , of all people.

 

 

After working tirelessly to conquer the fear, Minho was finally able to approach Jinki without his legs freezing up. Now, he was ready to give it another go; he was going to try and ask Jinki out again.

This time, no case of cold feet was going to stop him from succeeding.

After a lengthy once-over – or more accurately, several times-over – in the bathroom, Minho walked out and headed towards the kitchen with a determined air around him. He faltered slightly when he spotted Jinki at the table, but resolutely crushed the wild urge that rose up in his chest and told him to high-tail it out of there.

He _was_ going to do this.

Jinki was trying to solve his Rubik’s cube. He was making several bizarre expressions as he did so, making Minho’s stomach warm up with affection. Despite his status as leader, there was no doubt Jinki was the most unconsciously adorable member, at least in Minho’s eyes.

Jonghyun and Kibum were holed up on the couch in the adjoining living room, pouring over a single magazine placed between them. They were giggling and whispering to each other as they pointed at sections on the page. Sitting cross-legged in front of the television was Taemin, intent on the action programme that was showing.

Not exactly the privacy Minho had been hoping for but it would have to do. He wanted to get this over with before the chicken in him decided to make a comeback.

Jinki looked up as the youngest rapper approached. “Oh, hi, Minho!” he greeted with a bright smile that didn’t fail to make Minho’s heart skip a beat. “I was wondering where you were.

Minho smiled in response. ‘Okay, Minho, here’s your chance. Ask him!’

He opened his mouth. But no sound came out.

Jinki tilted his head, confused. “What?”

Minho’s mouth opened and closed but not even a squeak escaped. His eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head roughly.

“Is something wrong, Minho?” Jinki asked worriedly, seeing the odd way the younger boy was behaving. His question caused the other members to look up curiously.

Minho felt frustration bubbling in his stomach. What was wrong _now_? He tried to speak but the words refused to be sounded. Kibum grinned, instantly guessing the situation.

“Cat got your tongue, Minho?” he teased slyly.

Minho threw him a dirty look before turning back to the concerned Jinki.

“Are you okay, Minho?” the leader questioned worriedly. “Do you need water?”

Never one to give up, Minho opened his mouth yet again and tried to force something from his throat. Instead of the sound he was struggling for, he emitted a weird gurgle.

Silence. Then Kibum burst into laughter. Utterly horrified, Minho snapped his mouth shut. _He_ , the unruffled and cool Choi Minho, was making a total fool of himself!

“Maybe we should call Manager-hyung and take you to the doctor,” said Jinki in alarm, setting the Rubik’s cube down and getting to his feet.

Looking at him, Minho abruptly realised three things. One; he was quite possibly experiencing a case of knotted vocal chords due to nerves. Two; even if he did have a voice, he had no idea what to say in the first place because it had all flown out the window the moment he laid eyes on Jinki. And three; there was a huge chance SHINee’s leader would say no even if the first two reasons didn’t exist.

Stomach churning uncomfortably, Minho stared down at Jinki. The panic built up little by little. In a totally uncharacteristic move, he turned on his tail and dashed for the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

Jinki blinked in utter bewilderment. Jonghyun had to support Kibum, who was fairly howling with laughter as tears gathered in his eyes. Taemin sighed, turning back to the television.

‘Who knew even Minho-hyung could get scared?’ he thought sympathetically.

 

 

“Taemin-ah, is Minho okay?” Jinki asked the next night.

“Hmm?” Taemin looked up from his task of drying the dishes. “He seems fine to me, hyung.”

Jinki, who was washing the cups and plates they’d used at dinner, stared down into the sink in worry. “It’s just...he’s been acting really weird,” he said with slight hesitation. “Haven’t you noticed?”

Of course Taemin had noticed; _everyone_ had noticed. But Taemin felt that Minho needed at least some support in his plight.

“Weird how, hyung?” he probed.

“Well...it’s like he wants to say something to me but something’s holding him back. And he keeps running away each time he sees me. That’s not like Minho at all. Sometimes, he won’t even look at me.”

Taemin managed to catch a very vague hint of hurt in the older boy’s tone. He hid a smile and continues to dry the dishes he was handed. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it, hyung,” he said airily.

Jinki sent him a discreet glance he would’ve missed if he hadn’t been looking for it.

“No?” said the leader uncertainly but Taemin could detect an undertone of suspicion.

“Not really,” said the magnae without a single stutter. “Minho-hyung just has a lot on his mind right now. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.”

Jinki gazed at him, chewing his lip agitatedly. Then he sighed and turned back to his washing without another word. Taemin looked away, unable to hide a smile.

‘Poor Jinki-hyung,’ he thought. ‘Just wait a little longer while Minho-hyung pulls himself together. You’ve got nothing to worry about.’

 

 

This time, Minho _knew_ he could do it. He just knew it. He’d trained himself, practiced for hours and now he was ready. Today, his dilemma would be solved. Today, he would succeed.

Nothing was going to stop him from asking Jinki-hyung out this time.

‘One last check,’ he thought, looking himself over in the mirror. Everything seemed to be in order. ‘Alright, let’s go.’

For the hundredth time in his seemingly impossible mission, Minho exited the bathroom and made his way to the living room where he knew Jinki was. His steps were slow and measured so he could reassure himself as he went.

‘Be confident,’ he reminded himself. ‘Don’t let all that training be for nothing.’

That’s right. He wouldn’t let all those hours in front of the pictures and videos of Jinki go to waste. It didn’t matter that Jinki might say no – well, actually it _did_ matter but he’d ignore that for now – as long as he managed to ask.

And if it failed...well, he’d seen a hole in the backyard yesterday.

“Minho!” Jinki exclaimed happily and sat back down when Minho appeared. “I was just about to get you. Stop playing with your books and join us!”

“Yeah, Minho-hyung!” said Taemin enthusiastically, although he was barely paying attention. He was completely focused on the racing game he was playing against Jonghyun. The floor they were sprawled on was littered with pillows everyone had dragged from their bedroom.

Jinki patted the empty seat beside him with a bright smile. On his other side, Kibum sat curled up and gave Minho a knowing smirk. Jinki was completely oblivious to the internal turmoil of SHINee’s youngest rapper.

‘Well,’ thought Minho decisively. ‘It’s now or never.’

He opened his mouth.

“Aww, man, that’s cheating!” Jonghyun cried out, causing everyone’s attention to snap towards him.

“You snooze, you lose, hyung!” Taemin crowed in delight.

Minho sent the both of them his deadliest glare. They shivered and looked around in confusion but the rapper had already turned back to the task at hand.

“Jinki-hyung,” he said and was heartily glad his voice sounded normal.

Jinki looked up at him, still smiling cluelessly. “Yeah?”

“Will you go out with me?”

Jonghyun’s fingers slipped, sending his car careening into a head-long crash, eliciting a boom which ultimately ensured his loss. He didn’t notice and neither did the winner Taemin, who didn’t even think to gloat. Both were staring in open-mouthed shock at Minho. Kibum’s eyes were wide as he looked from his fellow rapper to his leader.

Jinki tilted his head, smile unwavering. “Sure, Minho!” he said happily. “I’d love to!”

Minho blinked. He’d done it. He’d actually succeeded in asking Jinki out. _And_ Jinki had said yes! He felt like breaking out into the biggest grin his cheeks could handle. His stomach was swimming in great relief and he could feel himself glowing with accomplishment. Everything in him was celebrating at the amazing achievement.

Then Jinki turned to Taemin

“Taemin-ah, you should come too!” he said excitedly. “We could get ice cream.”

Taemin, although a staunch supporter of Minho’s cause, was still the baby of SHINee and ice cream effectively derailed his attention.

“Ice cream?” he exclaimed and brightened, forgetting all about Minho and his intentions. “I want vanilla!”

Jonghyun slapped the back of the magnae’s head, expression uneasy. Taemin whined as he rubbed at the area, scowling at him. Both Minho and Kibum were still too shell-shocked to react, and Jinki instantly began to scold their lead vocal.

“Jonghyun!” he said sternly. “There’s no need to be mean to Taeminnie! You can come, too, if you like.” He looked at Minho. “That’s okay, right Minho? We could all go out together!”

Minho groaned and sank to the floor. Jinki, for some inane reason he couldn’t comprehend, had misunderstood him. He actually thought Minho had been literal when he said ‘going out’. He had assumed the rapper meant he wanted to go out on another of the outings they sometimes had.

Minho was torn between screaming at the top of his lungs and banging his head against the wall. In the end, he grabbed the pillow closest to him and buried his face in it.

“You’re pathetic,” Kibum informed him, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly.

Minho was inclined to agree and wondered if that hole in the backyard was occupied.

 

 

“I think I’m going to give up,” Minho declared with a sigh.

Kibum glanced at him from the counter. He didn’t need an explanation for that statement; he knew exactly what Minho was talking about.

“Wow,” the elder rapper said, walking over to the dining table with a plate of sandwiches in his hand. “I didn’t think you knew what ‘giving up’ even meant.”

Minho’s arms rose slightly from his face so he could give his fellow rapper a decidedly evil look. Kibum was expectedly unfazed and set down the plate before heading back to the counter to fetch the glasses of banana milk he had poured out.

“Stop sulking and come here,” he said, taking a seat. “I know you purposely missed lunch today.”

With another heavy sigh, Minho dragged his long body off the couch and slumped over to sit at the table. He stared down at the sandwiches Kibum had made.

“Eat,” Kibum ordered before sipping at his milk. Minho obeyed and took a piece. “Now, let’s talk about your predicament.”

“I didn’t know it was a predicament,” the other boy muttered through a mouthful of bread. He winced when his knuckles were rapped smartly.

“Swallow before you talk or you’ll choke,” Kibum scolded with a threatening glare. “And of course it’s a predicament. How long have you been trying to ask Jinki-hyung out?”

Minho’s eyes averted. Kibum reached over to abuse his knuckles again and he quickly leaned away.

“Two weeks,” the younger rapper finally admitted with considerable reluctance.

“That long?” Kibum raised his eyebrows. “Wow.”

Minho scowled at him but only got a grin in return.

“At any rate, I know what you could do,” said Kibum.

Minho eyed him suspiciously. “You do?”

“You’ve been going about it all the wrong way,” Kibum said. “Jinki-hyung isn’t stupid but he is clueless. It’s useless being subtle with him.”

‘Subtle?’ Minho thought bitterly. ‘I straight out asked him to go out with me. How is that _subtle_?’ He didn’t say it out loud, however, for fear of another sharp hit to his poor knuckles.

“You have to be blunt,” Kibum was saying. “Like really obvious.”

“What?”

Kibum rolled his eyes. “You have to make sure each word shows what you mean,” he explained. “Meaning, you have to flat-out say you want to go on a _date_ with him.”

Minho blinked at him. “That’s it?” he said incredulously.

“Well, it’s not like you can misunderstand that, can you? It’s straight to the point; even Jinki-hyung will know what you mean.”

Minho stared at him. Loathe as he was to take advice from Kibum, he really did want to get Jinki to go out with him. He supposed he didn’t have much of a choice.

“...Do you think it’ll work?” he said uncertainly.

Kibum smiled and reached to pat Minho’s hand. “Positive.”

 

 

‘Really obvious, huh?’ Minho thought, leaning against the doorjamb as he watched the wrestling pair on the floor of the living room. ‘If this doesn’t work, nothing will.’

“Jinki-hyung,” he called, causing both Jinki and Jonghyun to look up.

“Hi, Minho!” said Jinki as he fought to untangle himself from the other singer. “Where’ve you been?”

“Bedroom,” Minho answered simply.

Jonghyun looked him over and then abruptly stood, making Jinki blink in surprise. “I’m going to leave now,” he said nervously, walking away.

“Eh?” Jinki stared after him in confusion. “Why?”

“Good luck!” Jonghyun threw over his shoulder, and Minho was pretty sure that had been aimed at him.

“Jinki-hyung,” he said again, turning to face his leader.

The older boy looked up at him as he got to his feet, warm honey eyes inquiring. Minho forgot all his meticulously-prepared words. The sight of Jinki, with his hair tousled and cheeks pink from the wrestling match, gazing at Minho with that ever-bright oblivious smile that never failed to lighten his mood and his heart, wiped away everything the rapper had planned to do.

Instead, Minho grabbed Jinki’s t-shirt, yanked him forward and smashed their lips together.

Jinki let out an “Oomp!” and stiffened in shock. But Minho was insistent as he slid his lips against the other’s, nudging them apart as he pushed his tongue forward, meeting no barrier or protest. Gradually, as he got used to the feeling, Jinki melted into him and wrapped slender arms around his neck. Minho lifted him up while his arms locked around Jinki’s waist; he forcefully probed that warm wet cavern that was Jinki’s mouth, touching and tasting everything he had wanted to have since the day he had realised he was in love.

In the end they were forced to separate for oxygen, breathing heavy and uneven as they took in much-needed air. Both stared at each other with wide eyes. Minho absently observed how the blush taking over Jinki’s face made him look adorable.

“Minho...what?” Jinki managed to articulate as his mind scrambled to regain itself.

Minho had just kissed him. _Minho_ had just _kissed_ him. _Him_. This had to be a dream of some sort. When had he fallen asleep?

‘I don’t want to wake up,’ Jinki found himself thinking at the back of his head.

Minho stared down at the boy he desperately wanted to ravage to the point. But he finally remembered what he’d come here for, and it wasn’t to snog the living daylights out of his leader. He could do that afterwards, if how _responsive_ Jinki had been was anything to judge by.

“Hyung,” Minho spoke, voice husky as he pulled their bodies flush against each other. “Will you go on a date with me?”

Jinki stared at him then laughed breathily. “As if I’d say no after that,” he said and leaned up to kiss him again.

Minho could only smile, and meet him halfway.

 

 

 **END**


End file.
